


Safe and sound

by Monochrome_Eyes



Series: Lost memories [1]
Category: Amulet (Graphic Novels)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Apathy, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Hypothermia, OCs - Freeform, Sickness, Starvation, THE EXCERPT FUCKING KILLED ME, Trellis-centric, Trellis-whump, eDIT:, may be multi-chap i dunno, oh no i hurt myself emotionally writing this, so i had to
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-23 09:53:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15603759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monochrome_Eyes/pseuds/Monochrome_Eyes
Summary: After years of pursuit, they finally cornered the boy and his mother. Unfortunately, only one of them survives, and is sent off somewhere faraway to recover.How his lost memories came to be.





	1. Passing into the night

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I listened to Taylor Swift's Safe and Sound to set the mood. May wanna try it.

Staring at the fire was painful, his eyes stinging with the sheer heat and brightness, but it was better getting lost in it, rather than drowning in the dark waters of his thoughts.

  
It was absolute agony to feel the pangs of hunger stab his stomach, yet he stubbornly ignored it, observing the glowing embers trying to be entranced by it. The fire is dying, and he has no more wood to feed. Soon, the cold will kill it. He once again tries to push away the thought, not wishing to know its implications.

  
His mother have been sick for days now, becoming too feeble to even stand, much less eat. Instead, she opted to have him finish every meal he tried to fed her, much to his chagrin. Soon, like everything else, it ran out. Thus, they have nothing left, except for the bed, the lonely bowl and spoon, the stool he sat upon, and each other.

  
It's awful.

  
He's tired, exhaustion racking his body, energy seeped by the cold. He himself feels sick and heavy, but he fights against it. He must not submit. This is not the first time this has happened, and they always manage to better the situation every time.

  
Yet, he has a sickening feeling that might not be the case this time.

  
The wind howls again, causing the already weak fire to flicker. He shudders, both in fear and cold. Trying to keep his eyes open was next to impossible now, eyelids drooping every second, the fire and shadows blurring and dancing in front of his vision.

  
He is alerted slightly, when his mother coughs.

  
"Trellis," she calls out weakly, "darling, come here."

  
Perking up, fighting the cold and exhaustion reborns anew in the wake of concern, he trudges up feebly next to the bed. He held her hand to offer both comfort and companionship, which was as cold as his, yet his mother still gasps inaudibly.

  
"You're cold," her breath coming out soft, forming as puffs in the air. "Here, lay down with mother, will you? Let's keep you warm."

  
She raised the blanket in beckoning, and he obediently settles down next to her, touch and affection starved, arms and blanket wrapping and covering him around. He feels safe, protected from the harsh reality next to him.

  
It was warm, the heat of her body is a mercy beyond telling from the ruthless cold that seized his body, the thin, tattered blanket a feeble resistance. Still, he can't help but shiver, causing his mother tug him closer until he is burrowed into the bed and into her arms.

  
"Are you tired?" She whispers, eyes delirious but steadfastly concerned. "You should rest, dear."

  
"Mother," he whispers back in protest, eyes sagging. They feel so heavy. Sleep is tempting but he has a feeling that he might not wake up. But the bed is so warm and unusually better than sitting on the hard floor. He feels like molasses. He had never tasted them, but he thinks it would feel like this.

  
The fire is out now, defeated by the wind. But he does not know this.

  
Her clothes were soothing against his face. He can feel the beat of her heart upon her breasts. Gentle but weak thumping, the sound comforting him into a steady melody. A beautiful lullaby. Alive. Alive. Alive.

  
She gently reached out, fingers gingerly over his eyelids as she closes them shut. He gives out, succumbing to darkness. There is no resistance. The fingers were cold.

  
With his last edges of consciousness, he can vaguely remember her soft lips kiss his eyelids, then his forehead.

  
"Sleep now, Trellis."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
He woke. She doesn't.


	2. Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Years of fruitless pursuit has finally come to an end. Gigas isn't pleased, but there's nothing else he could do.
> 
>  
> 
> Something is wrong with the boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm decided to continue this
> 
> Don't worry abt the OCs they only appear in a few chap then they're gone.

The pair had somehow managed to make it in the middle of Nobuo. Gigas is beyond impressed.

  
Years of fruitless pursuit have finally come to an end, as he stood well into the distance as his troops gather and prepare behind him. They made it in the middle of a _t_ _undra_. That is no simple woman; she's wily and tenacious, the fact that she evaded the advances of the Elf Army for _years_ and with a _child in tow_ , no less, is very much the proof she is not easy to take down. No wonder she caught the eye of the King.

  
He grunts, shifting his weight, the armour a fantastic defense against blades and blasts, is poor against the cold. Still, she will be no match for a squad of soldiers; they have them cornered.

  
"Sir, the airship will have to leave soon before it succumbs to freezing," Uri informs beside him, body stiff against the biting wind as well. "Best we finish the situation so we could leave as soon as possible."

  
He nods his agreement. "Are the troops in position?"

  
"Yes sir." He affirms, wiping his goggles of the ice forming. Uri stays silent for a moment, and his voice comes out strangled. "How do you plan to... Approach, the situation, sir?"

  
Gigas whips his head to look at him harshly and he doesn't even blanche from his fierce expression as most people would've. It's unspoken, but Uri's accusation was still scathing. They have known each other for a long time, and both have been loyal to a fault. But that doesn't mean they do not have their own disagreements from time to time, yet the audacity of Uri to assume that of him...

  
"I wouldn't do that," he snaps, offended. "I'd never dare sink that low to kill them."

  
"What would you do then?" Uri asks, crossing his arms. "That woman is not easy to convince. Have you not learned from Keros?"

  
He stays quiet, contemplating, steam slowly cooling in his head. He focuses the tiny house house in the distance instead, as if he could see the mother and child within. "It wouldn't hurt to try."

  
Uri sighs, defeated. "I'd like to see you get out of this unscathed."

 

 

  
He trudges to the snow, making sure that anyone inside can see him approaching and unarmed. Neither side wishes to fight. Neither side wishes to let the other win either. The best action is to discuss this peacefully and without drawing blood. Hopefully, they won't have to kill her, yet it cannot be assured she will allowed to live when they take her back to Gulfen. Her trespasses are too severe to be let pass.

  
The thought made him waver. The thought of her execution, for a child to lose a parent for reasons he does not understand yet is enough to strike a blow in his heavily built resolve to end this. Still, he trudges on, mechanically, until the grainy door is in front of him, his body casting a tall shadow just as wide. She is not a bad person, yet she is a criminal, and she must be brought to justice.

  
Due to what? She did what every mother does; protect her child. Even if it meant betraying the King's wishes and killing his Chancellor and kidnapping his child, all the while evading capture in the process. Admirable, but foolish. Gigas swallows his doubts and accumulated spit. He doesn't agree with his orders, but he had a job to do.

  
And the door isn't going to open unless he does. He doesn't bother to knock, twisting the rusted knob, the door opening with a creak.

  
The first that hit him was the smell, which is saying something, as he is a slit-nosed elf makes it very hard to have the precision of most elves do. His senses nearly came to an overload, the faint hint of burnt wood, the musky smell of old rooms, and an odor that reminds him of the too many bodies that rot overwhelm him for a moment.

  
His stomachs plummets as his eyes adjust into the dark room. The house is painfully cramped, a pathetic example of a room if anything, with only a bed inside, a lump on the corner, a tiny bowl and spoon that was used to be filled with food, and the remnants of a fire.

  
The lump on the bed, under the blankets lay an elven woman terribly emaciated and hair ratty she may as well be a skeleton. Further observation however, as he strode towards her, gave familiar features of the woman they were supposed to capture.

  
His eyes widen in shock, jaw slack as his body freezes. The woman that has so fiercely defied the King and determinedly kept her son out of their hands is the same person on this bed.

  
This doesn't feel real. It doesn't feel real that he exists on the same reality of that tenacious woman and her lifeless, wasted body lie on this bed. To see that all of her effort all over the years to simply end starving and cold in a derelict house, is pitiful. It's bitter, and tragic. Gigas genuinely believes she deserved better than this, even if they are on different sides.

  
"So," he starts quietly, "we finally caught up to you."

  
She does not respond. She does not even wake. The body in front of him was as silent and still as a corpse. She might as well be one. Nausea and guilt now floods him. They caught up with her, but they were already too late.

  
He closes his eyes, mournful. Gigas does not like her, but he does respect bravery and tenacity. It's a loss, regardless. At the very least, is that she died on her own terms, rather than the King's. But this is hardly a victory, especially when her desire to keep her child alive and away from them is not even fulfilled til her death.

  
He draws away the blanket, expecting another body sleeping instead of dead underneath that she has wrapped her arms around, to give him one last comfort before she dies. Yet to his horror, reveals her arms empty. She was alone.

  
Gigas panics. He tries not to think what way he would be executed once he reported that they have not found the child. And that if they had found him, they would've found him dead. If the mother has already died, it's likely her son followed soon after, as no one can survive without anyone taking care of him. An adult didn't even survive, how could he?

  
He could not have left the house, else his soldiers would've found him first before her. Gigas searches around frantically, until his eyes landed on the lump on the corner.

 

  
That is no lump.

 

No lump looked vaguely like a person, he realizes in horror, as the thing he was actually staring at was a body. Curled tight in the corner, unmoving and silent, was the boy.

 

His heart pounded in several tense moments while he frantically gets on his knees to examine him, praying to ancestors or whatever greater power that the boy is still alive. His hand reached out before it halts abruptly, trembling, unwilling to touch him in a bout of terror and anxiety in the likely revelation that he isn't. That's when the boy shifted, and glanced in his direction.

 

"You're still alive," he whispers shakily, yet the boy remains impassive as ever.

 

His relief was audible, breaths more visible in the cold air. The boy gave no reaction, simply staring, making no move. There was a flash of recognition ficker across his eyes, then no more.

  
Ah. Of course. It's hard to forget the reason behind why they've been running for years, never staying in one place, never being able to lower their guard and never having any chance to have a semblance of a peaceful life. Soldiers like him are a plague that eats up their opportunities.

  
And yet, shouldn't he be cowering further back in fear? Attempt to do a futile escape as last-ditch effort to evade them? And yet, he remains scarily, unnervingly indifferent, to Gigas's great discomfort. It's almost as if he's... He's...Given up. The only difference from him and a corpse is his breath forming as little fogs and the occasional blink.

  
"My name is Gigas," he opts to start quietly, offering his hand and the boy just continues to stare with his blank eyes. "I'm here to rescue you."

  
There was no bursted tears of relief or terrified warriness. He does not reply, instead returning his gaze to the dark wooden wall he leant on. Gigas swallows. This is many levels of wrong, especially worrying that this is a child.

  
Goodness, how long has he been here? Hours? No, based on the rotten corpse of his mother, albeit greatly slowed down by the cold, has been here for at least two or three days. May have gone without food or warmth even longer. He curses, the severity of his condition dawning on him and he removes his cape, hurriedly wrapping up him up to start warming him against hypothermia. This search would prove pointless and may cost his and his men's lives if this boy doesn't survive after all those years of tribulations.

  
He grips the boy's wrist — stick-thin blatantly obvious even with his metal gauntlet— firmly yet gently to get him away from the musky corner, his body mechanically complying, like a lifeless doll. Gigas makes sure he is wrapped up and covered tight, then lifting his worriyingly light body up in his arms and quickly exits the house, shooting the woman's body one final look before jerking his gaze away, accepting there is nothing else he can do.

 

 

 

  
The soldiers within the perimeter disperses when they see him emerge from the cramped house, shouting orders to return to their bases and units, while he and his squad return to the airship and deliver the child someplace else.

  
Uri meets him halfway to the airship waiting for them, jogging through the snow before his body stops, eyes wide and jaw dropped. His eyes blink many times in disbelief, pointing an incredulous finger to the body wrapped up in his arms. "Is that... Is that him?? The boy?!"

  
"I'm afraid he is." He confirms grimly. Uri wipes a hand across his face, apalled at the child's wasted state.

  
"Is he even alive?! He looks nothing more than a bag of bones!"

  
"He won't be for long if we don't take care of him soon," he scowls.

  
"And the mother?" He demands, voice quaking in a way that Gigas knew is barely restrained anger. "Where's she?"

  
He just shook his head. And that was answer enough, Uri's anger turning into to stun, his eyes drifting towards the house.

  
"You mean, she- she is—" he chokes on the last word. "She didn't make it."

  
Gigas doesn't bother answering, coldly trudging on past Uri still standing as he impatiently and urgently makes his way towards the airship. A few moments of the wind howling and sharply whipping through them, caused the boy in his arms to shiver violently. He tightens his grip and sets on a faster pace. Soon, Uri jogs up next to him, broken out of his shock and frantically ranting.

  
"What then? What now?? What in the world are we suppose to report?" He demands, rattled to the core. "That — that she's dead? And what about the boy? Would the King even accept him by now? For all we know, he may be ilegitima—"

  
"We've had our orders," Gigas says firmly, trudging into the airship before gently laying down the bundle in his arms unto the floor. "The King ordered us to take him to his family, not to Valcor. It's a three-day journey, so if I were you, I'd sent them a copy of the report and a letter explaining the situation."

  
"We're going to leave him with his _uncle_?" He very nearly yells in indignation, and Gigas can't help but wince, "He — What could've — Why would — we do _not_  know how they would treat him! How would the Prince even react to suddenly discover out of the blue he had a half-brother all along??"

  
He's had enough. His face sets into a fierce and forlorn expression, and Uri instantly knew there can be no more argument.

  
"We. Have. No. Choice." He punctuated, as if Uri is an irrational child. "I don't agree with any of this, but what else could we do? This boy deserved better than being on the run without a permanent home, or starving and feeling cold. The best we can hope is that his father's side of the family would accept and care for him. I understand your anger Uri, do not think I am not outraged at this as well."

  
The stare at each other, for a while, silently in conflict before Uri gives a sigh, breaking eye cintact, rubbing his eyes underneathe the goggles. He swallows, defeated and accepting the inevitable choice of events.

  
"I'll tell the pilot to get us out of here," he says quietly, turning away. "And I'll get the medic and search every nook and cranny in this airship for every blanket."

  
"Thanks, Uri," he says heavily, "I wonder what I'd do without you."

  
Uri scoffs. "Doubt you'll be my superior officer if I'm not your friend."

  
With that he left, the humming of the engine vibrating throughout the floor and in moments he feels the sudden, odd feeling in his stomach telling him the airship has ascended into the dark sky. Gigas returns his gaze towards the body in the bundle, whose eyes remain apathetic to everything and his mouth slightly opened, his chest rising and deflating with every quiet, and laboured breath.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry


End file.
